


Something In The Mead

by skysedge



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Crack, Drunken Shenanigans, I can only bring you apologies, No quality lives here, Other, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 18:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5466449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Forgotten Knight was particularly rowdy that evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something In The Mead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hellsnextboss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hellsnextboss/gifts).



> 100% crack written for Hellsnextboss and her character because of a stupid Aymeric comic. If you are looking for accuracy, here be dragons, back away now.

The Forgotten Knight was particularly rowdy that evening. Cursing the location of his antecessory not for the first time, Aymeric was finding it difficult to concentrate. Even the stoic Lucia, stood at his right hand side, was twitching with irritation at each new smash and cry of amusement from the building nearby.

“Something in the mead tonight,” he remarked softly, glad to see Lucia nod stiffly in agreement as the unmistakeable sound of breaking glass carried on the air.

It was a pain, really. Here he was, working hard to protect all of these drunken louts while they partied. It wasn't that Aymeric was jealous. Well, not that jealous. Not all the time. The point was that he was serious about his duty, as was Lucia, as were the Scions, and as was the Warrior of Light.

“Step aside peasants!” a voice cried from just outside the door.

Aymeric rolled his eyes. The guards would stop the imbecile.

What had he been thinking? Ah yes, the Warrior of Light. She worked tirelessly to protect these ignorant, noisy scoundrels. A true paragon of righteousness and -

“I said step aside!”

and the doors were flung open by two harassed looking guards to reveal the woman herself. Clad in a pale pink dress far too revealing for the weather, hair wild around her face and cheeks red with mischief, the Warrior of Light struck a pose with both hands on her hips.

“I'm sorry, Ser Aymeric,” a guard tried. “We tried to stop her but -”

“More like Ser dayum-eric,” she announced, giving the Elezen commander an unmistakeable look up and down. “Blue is definitely your colour.”

The Warrior of Light wasn't known for speaking too much. She was known for silence, and seriousness, and honour. Perhaps the shock was why Aymeric coloured from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, completely thrown off guard. He gaped like a fish for a moment before Lucia stepped in to rescue her stricken lord.

“What happened to you?” she asked. “Is that blood?”

The Warrior looked down at herself, frowning and smearing some blood on her arm with a noise of disgust.

“Are you hurt?” Aymeric tried.

“No, it's not mine,” she said. “Someone called me cheap. Can you believe it?”

She spread her arms wide, giving the others a full view of her bare stomach and legs poking through the misplaced slits in her long skirt. Wisely, they kept their opinions to themselves.

“Do you know how much Thavnairian silk costs?!”

“Not too much to cover in mead,” Lucia whispered. Ignoring them, the Warrior was now climbing onto the table and beginning to dance badly.

“We can't send her back like this,” Aymeric said softly to his second in command. “What will the people think?”

“Nothing worse than they already-”

“And we can't afford an enemy finding her vulnerable like this. She needs cleaning up.”

“Quite. I'll call a maid to-”

Aymeric called the Warror's name, colouring again as she span around to blow him a kiss. 

“You can call me anything you like, blue eyes.”

“Ahem, be that as it may,” Aymeric soldiered on. “Lucia will be taking you upstairs to clean the blood off of, um, the dress...”

“How thoughtful!” Jumping off the table, the Warrior bounded towards Lucia and took the startled knight by the arm. Lucia shot Aymeric a wordless expression of horror as she was dragged towards the staircase. “C'mon Lucy, girl time.”

“But-”

“Tell me, is he checking out my ass?”

“You-”

“Don't make it obvious that you're looking!”

~x~

Ten minutes later, the small shower room intended for knights in a rush was completely soaked in water. Not wanting to touch the drunken Warror, Lucia had taken to standing in the far corner and angling the spray of water towards the mess of a woman. She struggled out of her now sodden dress and pranced naked in the water.

“So, are you two bangin'?” she asked shamelessly. Facepalming, Lucia aimed the water towards her face.

“No. Stop talking.”

“Why not? He's smokin'. You can tell me Lucy, it's girl time!”

“No thank you.”

“I'm the slayer of primals, keeper of secrets, quiet appreciator of ass.”

“Can you be a little bit quieter, please?”

Lucia was rewarded with a jet of water to her own face, pressing her back against the wall and pinning her in place for a few moments. 

“Sorry, wrong spell. This one?”

Lucia managed to dodge a bolt of ice at the last moment and fled the room, shouting behind her as she went.

“Hurry up and get dressed again!”

“Can you send your boss up?”

“No.”

“You can join in. I'm not against letting you-”

“Hurry up.”

~x~

It took Lucia a full quarter of an hour to coax the petulant Warrior back into her dress and down the stairs where she stood in front of Aymeric with a grin wide enough to swallow worlds. Her hair was drenched and tangled, her clothes dripping, but the rest of her free from blood and dirt. 

“Lucia wants to have a wet shirt contest,” the Warrior told Aymeric as he glanced to his second in command with confusion. “Want to join?”

“I, uh,-”

“She splashed me, sir,” Lucia protested wearily. “Think no more of it.”

Aymeric took a moment to appreciate the way the now sodden Thavnairian silk clung to the Warrior's thighs. Catching him looking, she clapped her hands together.

“She got me wet.”

The argument that followed was definitely not won by Lucia who found herself bitterly brushing the Warrior's hair and giving her a braid like a child, watched sternly by Aymeric all the while. Looking much better, but still loud and implausibly happy, their guest was ready to leave.

“Are you going to tuck me into bed?” she asked Aymeric, heading for the door. 

“I need to know what you were drinking,” he asked, ignoring her. “For a woman of your sensibility to be acting in such a way... someone must have introduced something to the mead.”

“I'll tell you if you stay the night.”

“Who was buying you drinks?”

“Are you saying I can't buy my own? Rude.”

“I didn't-”

“Selling monster organs is lucrative.”

Lucia followed them slowly, listening to the nonsense with growing anger and silently hoping one or both of them tripped on the many steps on the way back to Fortemps Manor. The guard on the door waved to them as they approached, his expression one of relief. 

“Is everything all right?” Aymeric asked.

“Yes, sir! You found her!”

Taking this as a cue to hurry, the trio opened the doors of the Manor to a scene of chaos. The entrance hall was filled with empty bottles and glasses, half-eaten plates of food littering the floor. In the corner, a red-cheeked Emmanellain was pleading with his father.

“...didn't mean any harm!”

“But what was it he sold you?”

“I don't know. The old fellow just said it would let them unwind. They're happy, so there's no harm, eh?”

“You lost the Warrior of Light.”

“Coo-ee!” the woman in question called, waving one damp sleeve towards them. 

“There you are, old girl! How about we finish what we-”

Emmanellain cried out as his father clipped him around the ear and dragged him from the room, not bothering to excuse himself. With them out of the way, Aymeric and Lucia's attention was turned to the center of the room, and the mastermind behind their distress.

Surrounded by empty bottles and sitting with her hands over her stomach in contentment, Tataru was laughing so hard that tears leaked from her eyes. Her shrieking only intensified as she looked towards Aymeric.

“Did you say it?” she asked the Warrior, who was ringing out her sleeves into a flower pot. 

“Yep. Pay up.”

Aymeric watched with mounting horror as the Warrior accepted a bag of coins from the Lalafell and began biting them to test their worth. 

“Now, sir,” Lucia urged. “While they're distracted. Let's make a tactical escape.”

“Do you think I'm cheap, Tataru?” 

“Now,” Aymeric agreed, turning on his heel and leaving as swiftly as possible before another fight broke out. Unfortunately, the two happily drunken ladies noticed and began to take stumbling chase.

“Follow the butt!” Tataru was saying. 

“Don't let it get away!”

Aymeric gritted his teeth and broke into a run, Lucia at his side.

“Damn,” he hissed.

“-eric,” Lucia finished.

“Shut up and run.”


End file.
